


But There Is Always Us

by mermatee



Series: Ghost Stories [1]
Category: Ghost - Mystery Skulls (Music Video), Mystery Skulls (Band)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, M/M, Multi, OT3, Polyamory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-12-08
Packaged: 2018-02-26 22:00:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2667905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermatee/pseuds/mermatee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of snapshots from the lives of the Mystery Skulls (just for clarification, the characters in the animated Ghost video, nothing to do with the actual band) which provide some backs story and insight into their thoughts and relationships with each other.<br/>Takes place before the cave incident and subsequent events of the Ghost video.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Vivi

Vivi

Sewing kept her hands busy. 

She had first picked up sewing as an uncharacteristically feminine hobby when she was twelve, after she stayed with her cousin. Lila, three years older than her, had a large wooden chest, painted with butterflies and flowers and stars, containing nail polish in every possible colour Vivi could imagine, and then some. Some sparkled, some shone, some were simple, blockish colours. It was one of the latter that she felt drawn to; a bright, simple sky blue. 

“Can I use that one?”

Lila shrugged. “You can have it if you like. I never use it, it'll get all claggy and messed up if I just leave it there.”

And she had painted Vivi's pathetic little nubs, getting most of the liquid on the surrounding skin, covering the quick. It looked awful. Lila was apparently more used to working with a better canvas. She puffed her cheeks out in exasperation. 

“You really need to stop biting your nails, I thought some stickers might make it look a bit better, but I don't have any that'd fit. You can get some nail stuff that tastes really gross, might help.”

Later, in the car on the way home, little blue bottle clutched in her palm, Vivi asked her father if she could have “some nail polish that tastes gross”. He looked bewildered and told her to ask her stepmother. 

Miriam had been delighted, having spent the previous six months trying to persuade her to “embrace her femininity”, whatever that meant. Vivi had heard her on the phone one night, discussing her with someone. 

“Oh, Vivienne's doing great, her grades are improving. She's very creative, adores stories. Mostly about ghosts and witches and things, but it's good for her to have interests.” There was a clink of a glass against her teeth. “Such a pretty girl, despite her best efforts. Always going off exploring, that one, she keeps coming home caked in mud. I have to keep brushing her hair when she least expects it.” Another pause, another sip. “Yeah, I know. She's young. Great kid though. So how's Simon doing?”

The problem, though, was that any taste can become tolerable after a while. And Vivi's desire to chew her nails, when thinking, when worried, when excited, vastly outweighed her desire to not taste the nail polish. 

“You need something to do with your hands” said her father. “Like... I don't know, baking? Knitting?”

And Vivi had tried, but, as much as she enjoyed the results, baking was not something she could do on the school bus, or late at night. And she was hopeless at knitting, having managed to produce a sloppy sort of square that was meant to be a scarf, then giving up. Miriam finished it off for her. It was blue, slightly darker than the nail polish she still kept on her dresser. 

It wasn't until she was walking around a craft fair in the town square that she felt the actual desire to make something. 

“How much?” She pointed at one of the small stuffed owls on the stall manned by a friendly-looking lady in an ill-fitting sweater. 

“$5.”

Vivi frowned. She would be able to afford it had she not enjoyed that foot-long hotdog earlier. 

“Do you make these yourself?”

“I do. It's surprisingly easy, just takes a bit of practice.”

“That's what my stepmom said about knitting.”

The lady laughed. “Knitting's different. So's crochet, I could never do that either. Basically, you just need to use some fairly simple stitches; the simplest explanation is to get some material, cut out two outlines of what you want to make, sew them together around the outside, turn it inside out, add things like eyes, which you can do with glue if it's easier, stuff it, and sew it shut. I mean, this only works for very basic items, like this-” she picked up a small stuffed owl on a keychain “-but it's a start, and you can work your way up to more three dimensional stuff.”

Vivi nodded. “I get it. Thanks.”

That night, she asked her dad and Miriam for fabrics and threads for her birthday. 

Now, years later, she was crafting a small plush figure. Boonard, the little ghost that was her first successful project, still sat proudly on her shelf, greyed with time and with one stiched black eye slightly frayed. She was in the process of adding blue dye to her freshly bleached hair, so smoking was out. She'd almost quit that equally unfortunate habit, but Arthur's mere existence made it difficult. He had never quite managed to develop a replacement habit other than his art, which he could only really manage when anxiety and self-consciousness didn't cause his hands to quake, and those occasions mostly seemed to happen when he was high. 

Speaking of Arthur, she heard the rattling of his keys in the door, followed by the tck-tck-tck of Mystery's paws on the hardwood floor. He shrugged off his ever-present orange bodywarmer, dropped in on a chair, and sat on the opposite end of the sofa. 

“Good walk?”

He nodded. “It was OK. Would have been great if SOMEBODY-” he gave Mystery a pointed look “didn't decide to run off for no damn reason.”

Mystery seemed to almost smile. Arthur had found him as a puppy, hiding behind their trash can, sheltering from the rain. Vivi gave him a quick scratch behind the ear. He was a good dog, really. Speaking to him as though he were human didn't even feel unnatural. 

“He's just a curious pup, aren't you, boy?”

Mystery slumped across her feet. 

“Hey, what are you making?”

Vivi held up the small, semi-complete figure she was working on. Arthur burst out laughing.  
“Lewis? Aw man, it looks exactly like him, you even got the hair right.”

“It's really hard to render a pompadour in plush, it turns out.”

“Well, he's cute.”

“So's the doll.”

“Him too.” 

“I'm going to make one for each of us. You're up next, I've just got to get some black felt.”

“For what?”

“Your eyebrows and beard, duh. And pupils. I used the last of it for Lewis' buttons.”

“Cool. Just make me look badass, OK?”

“How?!”

Arthur pouted. “Fine. Whatever. Why don't you just make mine so that it's wearing a diaper, and-”

Vivi gently kicked his leg. “Don't be silly. Hey, put it this way, you don't have a big puffy purple hairdo, that should make things easier.”

“I guess.”

An alarm on Vivi's phone rang out. She set her project aside. “OK, time to rinse the dye out.” She carefully pressed a kiss to Arthur's temple. “Lewis is home in, like, twenty minutes, and he's bringing pizza, so for the love of all that is just in the world, do not approach the oven.”

“Oh come on, one time I- wait, pizza? Nice.”

“Mmhmm. Right, back in a bit. And if you're going to smoke that, can you open the window?”

Arthur put down his grinder. “I was going to anyway. I read somewhere that weed's toxic to dogs, so on that note, Mystery, you go in the kitchen for now, OK?”

Mystery gave him an incredulous look. 

“Yes, really. It's for your own good.”

The dog refused to budge. Arthur groaned. “FINE. I'll go outside, where it's cold. You owe me, pal.”

Later, the three of them slumped on the sofa, bellies full, barely watching some terrible show in which angry people in suits shouted about freedom of speech. Vivi, having washed the grease from her fingers, resumed work on her mini-Lewis. Lewis himself leaned his head on her shoulder, and emitted a small belch. She prodded him in the ribs. 

“Pig.”

Lewis gave his usual lazy grin, and took another sip of beer. “Hey, it's been a long day. And now I've got to worry about what you're doing to that little voodoo dolls me you're making.”

“Nothing, I'm going to put him on the shelf, next to Boonard, get to work on Arthur's one, then Mystery's, then mine.”

“Why yours last?”

“It'd be a bit egotistical to do it first. Plus, mine's totally going to be awesome and deserves my full attention.”

“Can't argue with that. Are you going to sew an entire Porksplosion pizza to go in her stomach too?”

Vivi pondered this for a moment. “Actually, yeah, I could do that. I could make her stomach so that it's got a velcro flap or something.”

“That'd be cool.” Arthur stretched as much as he could, considering the fact that Mystery, oblivious to no longer being a tiny puppy, was asleep on his lap. “It'd be like one of those weird pregnant dolls with detachable pregnancy bellies that have a baby in them.”

Lewis shook his head. “How high are you?”

“Not very. And trust me, that's a thing. My neighbour had one when we were kids, it was weird.” He sat up. “Your hair turned out great, by the way.”

Vivi smiled. “Thanks. I'll help you do yours soon, I can see your roots.”

That night, Vivi briefly woke up. She wasn't sure what had woken her, but she didn't mind; moments like this allowed her to reflect on the people who meant the most to her while they were actually there. She was on the side of the bed that wasn't against the wall, being the one who tended to wake earlier. Lewis liked to lie against the cool, painted wall, feeling its solidity against his back, which left Arthur in the middle, not usually taking up much space since he invariably slept curled up in a little ball of limbs. Vivi was always warm, and couldn't quite manage to sleep in anyone's arms all night, but it didn't stop her from occasionally reaching across for Lewis' hand, or slinging an arm across Arthur's scrawny body and feel him shifting closer to her warmth in his sleep. It shouldn't have worked; Lewis, taking up most of the bed and snoring at a volume akin to, as Arthur put it, “bricks on a spin cycle”, Arthur who wriggled and whimpered and whispered incoherently as he slept, and Vivi, generating heat and waking occasionally to observe both of the men she loved so deeply at their most unaware, but somehow it did. Even Mystery seemed to understand that the nights were for them; despite no-one objecting to him sleeping next to, or, in Arthur's case, ON the bed, he preferred to sleep on the soft rug in the living room. 

In the dim light, Vivi became aware of something shining in the dark. She realised, as her eyes adjusted, that Lewis had woken up. 

“Hey” he whispered, draping an arm across Arthur and giving her hand a squeeze. 

“Hey too. Go back to sleep.”

“You OK?”

Vivi squeezed his hand back. Arthur abruptly rolled over, muttered something along the lines of “FugginassBURBS” and buried his face in Lewis' chest. She smiled into the darkness. 

“Absolutely fine.”


	2. Arthur

Arthur

It didn't take much, he thought, barely able to hear it over the sound of his heart frantically rattling against the inside of his chest. He was amazed he had managed to get through the door, having dropped his keys more times than he could count, hands shaking so violently that they didn't even feel like hands, more weak, fumbling blurs attached to his arms. He had sat, leaned against the back of the door, for god knows how long, trying to regain his footing on... on what, exactly? He tried to remember what the counsellor in school had told him once, what was it? Breathe in for four seconds, or was it eight, and hold it, and exhale for.... 

It didn't matter, not when he couldn't even remember how long he was meant to breathe in for, because of course he'd fuck it up, didn't he always? Sweat had soaked his hairline and trickled down his spine, and he needed to be outside. Which is how he found himself out in the grassy area behind the ground floor apartment he shared with his girlfriend, boyfriend, and dog. Because the dog makes the whole situation normal. 

Sometimes, he felt dishonest and pathetic for even claiming Vivi or Lewis as his. There were times when, even though she didn't know it, he was at least kind of awake at night when Vivi woke up, and he shifted towards her at the slightest touch, because she was so warm, and wonderful, and he adored her, he truly did, with her soft body and enthusiasm for life, and death, and everything in between. Her messy blue hair, slightly fried from so much dying, but still less so than his, her little pink glasses she wore mostly for reading so that the words made sense. She was short and plump and beautiful with a smile full of life, and she deserved so much better. Lewis, too. Tall, well-built, well-dressed Lewis. If Arthur had even a dime for every time he'd been told how charming Lewis was, how hard it was to dislike him, he'd be able to afford a nice place for all four of them, assuming he was still welcome. He felt as though he should see Lewis as a goal to achieve, someone he should aspire to be, but it was hard to hold him up as a role model when the two knew each other so well, when Lewis played with his hair as he was falling asleep, when he helped Lewis tie that ascot he seemed so fond of yet remained so incapable of getting right. Nonetheless, he sometimes looked at Vivi, and Lewis, and thought “What do I even bring to this?” Because what was Arthur, if not a frightened, panicky mess? 

The rain was more of a heavy mist today, but soaked through his body warmer nonetheless. He could hear Mystery scratching at the door to be let out. He could hear Mystery call his name, he thought, before dismissing the idea. Mystery was an expressive dog. It just seemed like he could talk to him, sometimes. He couldn't, obviously. He was a dog. A good dog. 

God, even his dog could do better than him. 

Arthur still felt curiously hot, pins pricking his skin, despite being nearly soaked on a cool autumn day. 

It had been his mother this time. His father didn't talk to him, not now. His mother occasionally offered to take him for lunch, though, and hey, a free meal was always a good thing. He worked in a gas station, any disposable income he had after rent, bills, and food that wasn't Ramen went on cigarettes, weed, and the occasional repair to his van (or rather, parts; one thing even he admitted he was good at was basic mechanics). 

Today, over lunch, she had elected not to even try to be subtle. 

“I think, if you can, that you should get that girl, Vicky-”

“Vivi.”

“Yes, her. I think that you and her should try and make things work without that boy.”

Arthur wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before remembering that there were napkins. 

“What, leave Lewis? Why?”

His mother sighed. He looked more like her, he decided; same sallow skin, hazel eyes and thick eyebrows. 

“You know why.”

“Because of Dad?”

“Not just because of that, Arthur. I know that your father is mostly opposed to the fact that there is a man in your life in any romantic sense-”

“But you never had a problem with it, right? You defended me when he went nuts over it, you-”

“Arthur. Look, darling, if you were simply... you know...”

“Gay?”

“Yes. And keep your voice down. Anyway, we could probably work with that. It's quite fashionable nowadays, I hear.”

“I'm not doing this to be fashionable.”

“I know. But you are in a relationship with a, frankly, very lovely young lady, fashion sense aside, and a man. What kind of message do you think that sends?”

It might have been the two glasses of wine, but Arthur felt brave. “That I'm in love? Is that bad now?”

“Don't be obtuse, Arthur. You know what I mean.”

“You mean that you're ashamed of me, because, for once, I've found something that makes me happy, and it isn't a fucking coffee table?”

“Young man, you will watch your language.”

“I just don't get it, why are you and Dad so against this? I'm happy, no-one's being hurt, I have an amazing girlfriend AND boyfriend, both of whom share my interests-”

“Yes, your little ghost stories. Grow up, Arthur. You could be saving up for a house, and you spend your money on going around looking for ghosts that aren't there. You could even save up enough for actual therapy if you stopped smoking that disgusting-”

Arthur pulled out a packet of cigarettes. His mother sighed. “Put those back.”

“I can smoke here. It's an outdoor seating area.”

“I'd rather you didn't. And as the provider of your little feast, I think I get the final word, don't you?”

Arthur put his cigarettes away. 

“Look, Arthur, I'm not going to pretend to be politically correct, or progressive, or whatever the term is-”

“I think the term is “a decent person”.”

“-I'm going to be blunt with you. So, in this little relationship you have, it's you, a girl who you ordinarily wouldn't stand a chance with, and a boy any girl would want. They'd make a lovely couple, clearly. So tell me, what exactly do you bring to this relationship? What one thing do you have, other than a hideous van, that would be of any use to them?”

Arthur felt her words like blows to the chest. 

“So what, you think they're using me for my van?”

“No, dear. It's clear that at least one of them could afford a van of their own. Which makes me wonder if they're keeping you around out of pity.”

The words hung stagnant in the air. On cue, or rather, as a delayed reaction, Arthur felt his hands start to tremble. His mother's facial expression softened. 

“Darling, I know it sounds cruel, and I don't mean it to be, but you have to face reality; I'm sure they're very nice, and treat you well, but if you want to salvage any kind of functional relationship out of this, you'll get that girl out of there, knuckle down, find a proper job, stop chasing ghosts, and live your life properly. That, or let her go with that nice boy and leave them both to their lives. This is for your own good, Arthur. You can't live your life bunking with a couple.”

“We're not a couple though” it came out as a whisper.

“They are, though. And this is never going to work. Come on Arthur, is this how you imagined your life? Playing Scooby Doo as a grown adult with the couple you have intimate relations with?”

His mother apparently noticed his shaking hands and small gulps of air. 

“And now you're getting upset. See, I told you that you should have kept seeing Dr Bostock-”

Arthur gulped in a quick rasping breath. “Dr Bostock can't make me not love people-”

His mother sighed. “You're being childish, Arthur.”

At that point, he decided that he couldn't stomach this any more. He grabbed his wallet, threw a handful of dollar bills at his mother (an embarrassingly small amount, granted) and stood up to leave. 

“Arthur. Is this you flouncing off to your room all over again?”

“I can't be here, I can't, thanks for lunch though, but I have to go, sorry Mom.” He was babbling, trying to get an arm through his bodywarmer, despite his limbs rattling in their joints. 

His mother gave him a look of pure disdain. 

“You have always been so ungrateful, Arthur. You've had every possible chance in life, and this is how you do things.”

He froze, unsure what to say. 

“Just go, Arthur. I'll get the bill. Don't worry.” She grabbed his pile of bills and stuffed them into his pocket. “You go and buy your drugs, and fuck your girlfriend, and fuck your boyfriend, and chase after things that don't exist. Just don't expect me to be there when it all breaks down. As a parent, I've done my part.”

He didn't remember much of the walk, no, run, home. At one point, he leaned against a wall to catch his breath, and an old lady walking by peered up from under her umbrella and asked if he was OK. He managed to nod and thank her. And that was why, now, he was sat in what could be called his garden, rain soaking his clothes, trembling and trying to breathe, and-

“Arthur?” He jumped so violently that he felt as though his bones were trying to escape his body, which was his usual reaction to be touched unexpectedly. He took another gulp of air, recognising the person next to him as Lewis. 

“Arthur, you're soaked, what are you doing out here?”

“I-it's fine, just go inside, it's raining-”

“I know, which is why you should come in too.”

A pause. Lewis noticed Arthur's erratic breathing and trembling limbs. 

“Hey. Come on. Come inside, OK?”

And Arthur shakily dragged himself to his feet. 

Half an hour later, in dry clothes, Arthur was perched on the sofa, a cushion hugged to his chest. His breathing had almost returned to normal, and all that remained was the strange, static feeling in his veins. He pushed damp hair out of his eyes. 

“I'm sorry.”

Lewis, sat on the other end of the sofa, frowned. 

“For what?”

“I don't know, everything, I guess. Like, getting in the way, and-”

“Is this because of your Mom?”

Arthur froze. 

“Like, I know you saw her today, did she say something shitty? She seems to every time you see her, so...”

“Oh, nothing. Just that I should take Vivi and run, if I can, because she can do better, and you can do better, and I'm just kind of here because you feel bad for me, and I need to grow up and buy a house, and-”

That thudding in his chest started to return. Lewis sat up, moved over, and pulled him close. Arthur felt his eyes burn hot with tears and clung to Lewis, despite his best intentions. 

“She's right though, you two, you're both great, and I just bring a shitty van and a not-shitty dog, and-”

“And you. You bring you. Jesus, Arthur, I wouldn't have this kind of... y'know, unconventional thing going on if I didn't genuinely want it. We've all been living together for over a year now. If Vi and I were going to just ditch you, don't you think we'd have done it long ago, before we all moved in together? And your mom's being an asshole. I'm sure she's got good intentions, but fuck it, she's still married to a guy who she knows cheats on her behind her back, and she says nothing. Of course she's not going to understand us three. Well, four. Speaking of which-”

He pulled away, leaving Arthur cold again until the kitchen door clicked open and Mystery bounded over to him, looking remarkably annoyed. Arthur reached forward and rubbed his head. 

“Sorry, man. I'm sorry. I just needed to be alone for a little while, you know?”

Mystery cocked his head to one side incredulously, but then settled at Arthur's feet. 

“See? The dog's all worried now.” Lewis gave an amused smile and wrapped his arms around Arthur, who suddenly felt the right level of warmth again. “Look, I know she's your mom, and whatever she says is going to have some kind of impact, but she's wrong. Fuck it. You're doing fine without her, and you bring a lot of the Mystery Skulls. Aside from the logo, which, by the way, kicks ass.”

Arthur sighed. “Like what? My van that breaks down all the time?”

“So? You always fix it. You're good at fixing stuff. And you're the only one who seems to have any survival instinct. Me and Vivi, we get caught up too easily in ghost hunting and stuff, you actually notice danger.” He pushed Arthur's uncharacteristically limp hair out of his eyes. “And that's just business. You're smart, you're a good listener, and, if I may say so, you're fucking cute. Your mom's got her own shit going on, and she's taking it out on you. Ignore it. Hell, you're doing better than she is. Less money, maybe, but who cares, you get by OK, even without me and Vivi.”

Mystery clambered up onto Arthur's lap. He laughed. “I feel kind of stupid now.”

“Nah, don't. I know you get stressed out over this stuff, that's reasonable. Just don't think we don't love you, OK? You're not a third wheel or anything. And now I feel the need to play some COD before I start sounding like a fucking after school special.”

Arthur grabbed a controller. “Maybe you can beat me this time.”

Lewis grabbed him, noting the lack of flinching from Arthur, kissed him deeply, then grabbed his own controller. 

“Bring it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's weird, because we have such limited knowledge of these characters, but Arthur strikes me as more easily frightened/highly strung partly because he's smart enough to think "HOLY SHIT, GHOSTS, RUN!" and also because he comes from a family who always had much grander (if less interesting) plans for him than "driving around in a gaudy van with my boyfriend and girlfriend and dog and solving mysteries"; he's not quite the "brilliant but lazy" trope, more "gifted in some areas but hampered by low self-esteem". He has a history of anxiety, and tends to use pot as a way of dealing with it, despite, deep down, being unsure if it's helping or just making things worse. So yeah, that's my headcanon.


	3. Lewis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Quick warning, here be smut. Not massively detailed smut, but figured a heads-up wouldn't go amiss.   
> And yes, next chapter up is for Mystery.  
> So yeah, comments/reviews always appreciated, enjoy.

Once, they had found a ghost, Lewis thought, a woman whose husband had suffered a heart attack and died while in the company of another woman. So much of her rage was attributed to his betrayal. He died in the company of warm hands and soft lips around his cock, she died sad and alone with a noose around her neck. Apparently, despite the cold solitude that death could offer, anger burned, if anything, brighter, once the person had died. It took several sessions over the course of four weeks for her to consider that her late husband had moved on, walked towards the light, and her rage and resentment was keeping her cemented to this earth.   
Vivi had felt desperately sorry for her. Arthur didn't like how she was effectively being punished for being rightfully pissed off. Even Mystery could often be found near her, being petted; ghosts could often physically interact with things, depending on how powerful they were as spirits, but it did take some focus for her to make her hand solid enough to pet him. 

Eventually, she had agreed to move on, when she could. She was resentful enough to be weighted to this life in some way, she said, but she was working on moving on, and she wouldn't continue to haunt her husband's mistress. Said mistress called them nearly a year later to confirm that she was gone. Apparently they had become friends in her remaining time. Go figure. 

He thought this while lightly rubbing himself through his boxers, watching Vivi's chest swell and dip rapidly, lips forming inaudible, beautiful words, fingers twisting gently in Arthur's hair as he buried his face between her thighs. She was squirming against the pillow, socks still on long after the rest of her clothes had been dumped next to the bed. God, she was beautiful, he thought. He thought that a lot. He could tell how close she was; he'd watched and participated for so long now, he knew her ways and that throaty groan that erupted when she toppled over the edge. 

Before long, he was right, and Arthur sat up, a spattering of freckles across his shoulders and a shy smile on his shining lips, as though he still couldn't quite believe that Lewis not only allowed him to commit such an act, but enjoyed it. Lewis touched Arthur's jaw, and kissed him intently, tasting wine and a faint hint of a cigarette and, most importantly, Vivi. Why, he wondered, did people not understand when he mentioned how he lived, how it was absolutely possible to love more than one person at once? He understood that not everyone would be comfortable having this sort of relationship, but...

Well, he loved his parents. He loved his brothers in much the same way, and his cousins, and his grandparents. If he could love multiple family members equally in that sense, why should his love in the romantic sense be reserved solely for one person? 

It had started with Vivi, as most things did. They had met at an open day at the local community college, both considering a psychology course. They had later dropped out of that very course on the same day, having decided that their professor could not have given less of a shit about actually teaching them. On that day, they sat in Starbucks, considering their next move, professionally. It was then that Vivi had decided that driving around and solving supernatural mysteries was the perfect plan. 

It was utterly fucking ridiculous, made absolutely no sense, and sounded like a joke of a solution to his lack of direction. He loved it. 

Arthur was, to him, originally the Van Guy. He had a van, for a start. He had a dog too, a dog that arguably seemed more tuned in to human emotions than his owner. Then he became the Gadget Van Guy, once he showed Lewis his collection of strange little robots he'd apparently made out of boredom, and displayed how good he was at fixing things; the van (which was probably older than Arthur himself), computers (Even Lewis' old laptop had finally sprung to life at his touch), and almost anything else offered to him. Then he was the Vanime Guy, as Lewis discovered Arthur's fondness for anime, which would explain his baffling choice of hairstyle. Eventually, he was just... Arthur. Arthur who was kind and anxious and funny and smart and his, and Vivi's. 

He and Vivi had been lying in tangled, sweaty sheets on a hot July morning when they first discussed him. 

“So... I may have this wrong, but you and Arthur have a thing going too, right?”

She stretched, pointing blue-painted toenails. “Yeah, have for a little while now.”

“And you're sure he won't mind this?”

“Yeah. Actually, I was talking to him about us the other day-”

“-us as in you and him, or us as in you and me?”

“The second one. But yeah. He seems to like you. You two should spend some time together.”

“What, and, like, fuck?”

“If you want. You may wanna romance him a little first. He's kinda skittish.” Vivi gave him a lazy smile. “Look, you understand, right?”

Lewis nodded. “I get it. I really do.”

“Do you like him?”

Lewis paused. He did, he thought. He liked Arthur on a platonic level, with his stupid jokes and how he wore his heart on his sleeve. He liked Arthur, with his terrible dress sense and silly hairstyle and gold eyes full of the sun that never really seemed to meet his. He liked Arthur, with his wiry body and the frown that he saw vanish when he found him taking a nap on the sofa, with his often chapped lips and disarmingly sweet smile that appeared so rarely. 

“I'll spend some time with him.”

And he had. And that was why he was now passionately kissing that sweet, odd, gadget-obsessed boy while reaching towards Vivi's still-trembling lower region. She took his hand, and pushed it away. 

“You two.”

“You sure?”

“Mhmm.” She gazed intently at them both, sliding two fingers inside. Lewis rolled onto his back, pulling Arthur on top of him, pressing the small bottle into his hand. And later, Arthur pushed into him strongly, so unsure and so powerful that he hit that spot that felt like his soul had been woken up, he cried out his release as Arthur tensed up and whimpered into his shoulder, and Vivi let out that guttural, raw sound, and they all lay together, nudging each others' feet.

Lewis slung an arm across Arthur and pulled Vivi closer. She smiled, reached across, and pushed his hair out of his eyes. 

“Enjoy it?”

She smiled widely. “Of course.” She shuffled closer, squeezing Arthur between them.

“Mmf. I'm still here, guys.”

 

It was hard to imagine just him and Vivi any more. He knew that Arthur's parents were both aware of their situation and disapproving, that Arthur himself often wondered if they were just tolerating his presence, but he didn't notice how wrong everything seemed without him, how it wasn't just Arthur with Lewis and Vivi, it was Arthur, Lewis and Vivi. He wasn't a frivolous addition to their romance, he was a part of it. 

He truly meant to explain this to Arthur, one day. 

For that night, however, they slept, tangled like electrical cables, and Lewis awoke to find, unusually, Vivi nestled against him. It was not an unwelcome presence; he could hear rain hitting the window, and there was a chill in the air. He pulled her closer. 

“Mmmf. Morning.” He buried his face in her hair. 

“Afternoon.”

“Wait, really? What time is it?”

“Nearly one o'clock.”

“Shit. Good job I'm not working the lunch rush today. How come you're still in bed?”

Vivi stretched. “Oh, I got up earlier, did some research, we've got a case, by the way.”

Lewis sat up. “Really? When?”

“Tomorrow, if that's OK. I checked the calendar, you and Arthur aren't working, and I swapped shifts with Craig. It's about a four hour drive, but the guy's offering a lot for us to-”

“Wait, what exactly is this?”

“OK, so basically, some guy inherited his grandfather's estate, which includes some gross cave in the ass-end of nowhere, apparently his grandfather was kinda nuts and thought maybe there would be something worth mining in it? Anyway, he's talking about making it into some kind of music venue.”

“Music venue.”

“Yeah.”

“In a cave.”

“That's miles out of the way, yes. Dude's clearly lacking in business sense. Anyway, he had some surveyors have a look at it, and they won't say what happened, but apparently there was a fight, like, a full-on physical brawl between two of them, and now one of the guys involved is all messed up and yelling about there being some sort of presence in there, and the other was missing for two days. They found him in the woods, apparently he's kind of a mess, won't say anything. Cool, right?”

Lewis raised an eyebrow and Vivi burst out laughing. “OK, not cool, but interesting. I mean, a haunted cave? That changes things up a bit, right? I mean, when was the last time we had a case that wasn't just all “wah, I'm dead but don't know it so I can't move on, let's rattle some doors or whatever”

Lewis had to admit to being curious. “Did anyone say what the brawl was over? Like, was there any indication, or did the guy just flip out?”

“No idea. The guy on the business end of the beating's going to be there and talk to us about it, so we can find out from him.”

“Man. You know things are bad when your first instinct is to call us to solve employee conflicts. Don't they have a HR department?”

“Hey, we're as good as any HR department. I dunno, work's been so boring lately, is it bad that I'm kind of psyched for this? Like, I feel sorry for the two guys involved, but....”

Lewis shifted, moving an arm around her. “Well, it's your passion in life. And hey, we might get to help. The kit's all stocked, right?”

“Yeah. Everything from salt to chalk to snacks for Mystery. Only thing missing is the truckload of beta blockers it'll take to get Arthur in there.”

“He'll be fine. Where is he, anyway? Work?”

“Yeah. Then he's meeting his parents.”

“Sounds ominous.”

“Yeah. Never seems to end well. Actually, I think this is the ultimatum talk.”

Lewis let out a low whistle. “Man. Wish I'd been awake when he left now, could have offered... I dunno, some words of encouragement or something. He only saw his mom a few days ago, and that clearly went horribly. Is the ultimatum coming from him, or...?”

“Both, I think. His Dad's going to be there, which is unusual, so I think his parents are going to do the usual get-your-shit-together speech, but he said he's going to tell them to respect his choices or piss off. So... yeah. When you get in later, you may want to see how he is, you know?”

“Of course, I mean- wait, where are you going?”

“Dad and Miriam are back from vacation, I said I'd go round and look at the photos.”

“Fun.”

“Yeah. I offered to cancel, but Arthur said he'd probably want a little bit of time to himself whatever happens, so looks like I don't get out of it that easily. Still though. Miriam's making chilli, so that'll be good.”

“Aw man. Her chilli's the best.”

“I'll bring some back with me, she knows how much you like it.” Vivi glanced at the clock. “You'd better get your uniform on, you've got work at half two.”

“Urgh. I hate the earlybird special shifts.” Lewis put on a creaky, trembling voice. “I can't digest anything you serve! What's a burrito? Everything's so spicy here, can I just get a bucket of sour cream? I had a Mexican gardener once and he messed up my clematis!” 

Vivi grinned. “Just turn on the charm, maybe you'll get some decent tips.”

“Nah. In their day, they probably tipped in sage advice or something.”

Later, in the van (the gas station Arthur worked at was only a twenty minute walk away, so he tended to leave the van for Lewis to use), Lewis found himself glancing at the photo kept on the dashboard. It was taken after their first case that turned out to be an actual haunting, which resulted in Vivi effectively badgering the poltergeist into moving on, rather than messing up the nice, spooky manor it haunted. Vivi was grinning widely, one arm around Lewis, who was still somewhat unnerved by the experience, and one around a clearly terrified Arthur, who was clutching onto Mystery (still a puppy, at the time). Upon seeing the photo, Vivi had decided that no picture would ever sum them up more accurately, and it had been there on the dashboard ever since. He had to agree; it was nice, he thought, on his way into his regular job, to be reminded that it was such a minor, mundane part of his life compared to everything and everyone else in it. Some people lived for their uninspiring office job, having so little going on outside of it; at least he knew that, while his soul didn't exactly lie in waiting tables, it was just a small, unavoidable, minor annoyance. 

He pulled up in the car park, waving to Marc, the head chef, who was smoking by the kitchen door. 

Things would work out, he figured. For all of them.


	4. Mystery

The front of Arthur's van was spacious, once you cleared all the fast food wrappers and empty soda cans out. Mystery glanced to his left, watching Vivi bob her head along with the radio that crackled in and out of focus as they drove further out of town. Lewis was driving, the two sat close together, the small space between them lit up and sparking with excitement and possibilities and love and everything else. Vivi scratched behind his ears and he couldn't help but scoot closer. He was, on paper, her dog; she earned the most, and was the only one who could be relied on to keep her phone turned on, after all. 

He wasn't anyone's dog, not really, but yet, he was so close to all of them. Vivi who fed him and took him to the much-loathed vets that time to get chipped and made that odd little toy in his image. Lewis, who play-fought with him and acted almost as a guard dog in his absence, towering over everyone and ensuring that they would be fine. Arthur, who walked him and talked to him much more than the other two did, almost as though he was aware of the not-dog's true nature, although probably more because he clearly preferred to express himself when no-one was present except those incapable of repeating his thoughts. 

Arthur was sat in the back seat, hunched over and staring out of the window, despite the abundance of space. He had come home yesterday in that state that Mystery saw him in all too often, breathing like it was a concept he'd just been introduced to, skin damp and salty-tasting, vibrations taking over his thin limbs, face cupped in his hands. Mystery had got the kitchen door open for once, and sat on his lap until some of the colour returned to his cheeks and lips, and he finally buried his face in Mystery's fur and cried. 

Mystery hadn't known what to do, or why, so just stayed there until Lewis finished his shift. He clearly didn't quite know what to say or do neither, so had elected to just sit with Arthur in silence, clutching his hand. Mystery had gone into the kitchen after a while, sensing that there was little he could do that wouldn't result in revealing too much; he was aware of his official status as dog/team mascot/pet, and saw no reason to disrupt that unless strictly necessary.

Brambles and thorns blurred across his vision, briefly illuminated by the van's headlights. Talking to the surveyor had taken longer than they thought, as the man was clearly terrified, still in pain, and in no mood to explain the specifics of the incident to anyone, but, from what they could gather, the man who had since been hospitalised had attacked out of nowhere. Their source had explained through cracked lips how the cave was cold and empty and so full of something inherently wrong. He had then stared at the wall for about ten minutes before Vivi decided that they were unlikely to get more information out of him. Obviously, the hospital wouldn't release details; they were an independent business, why would they? And that was why they were now slowing down just outside an ominous looking cave. Vivi clapped her hands happily. 

“We're here!”

Lewis snorted with laughter. “Is that a sign with a skull on it?”

“That... doesn't sound safe.” Arthur mumbled from the back seat, hugging his knees to his chest. Vivi reached behind her and ruffled his hair. 

“Oh come on, if there was actually a threat, wouldn't the sign be more specific?”

“I think a skull is pretty specific.”

“Arthur, unless the cave is haunted by a former Hanna Barbera producer, a skull tells us jack shit. Come on, let's go.”

Arthur reluctantly left his seat as Lewis grabbed his torch. Not flashlight. Torch. Apparently it “created atmosphere” to have what was essentially a flaming stick rather than anything involving electricity. Vivi said that ghosts messed with electrical equipment too much for an actual flashlight to be useful. Mystery didn't see how fire was any less vulnerable to supernatural influence, but kept quiet. 

The cave was almost devoid of sound; Vivi's initial gasp of delight at the rock formations pounded off the walls frantically until it sounded as though a thousand souls were grasping for breath. Lewis grinned. “Man, I can see stalagmites. Good luck to the owner in clearing those, that's going to take forever. So what are we looking for, exactly?”

Vivi shrugged. “Anything, I guess. Anything that seems out of the ordinary; I mean, it varies so much from case to case, could be anything. Ancient tome, amulet, actual ghost, whatever.”

“Well, thanks, can you vague that up a little for me?”

Vivi slapped his arm lightly. “Shut up. Anyway, there's a fork here, who wants to go where? I can't be the only one seeing that weird green glow from down there-” she pointed down the slope towards the stalagmites “- so how about we start there? Arthur, you can come with me-”

“I'd rather not.”

“What? Why?”

Arthur glanced down at the eerie glow and swallowed hard. “This whole thing... I don't know, I have a bad feeling about it.”

“You have a bad feeling about pretty much every case.”

“And I'm usually right, we keep getting attacked by ghosts and-”

“Because we're paranormal investigators. Duh.”

“I know, but...” Arthur ran a hand through his hair. “OK, you guys know I'm a fucking wuss. I just really don't want to go down there.” He was cowering behind Lewis at this point, as though he already expected something to go wrong. Vivi sighed. 

“OK, so how about you take the left path instead? We'll get this place searched more quickly if we're all here.”

Lewis seemed to understand, and squeezed Arthur's shoulder. “C'mon, I'll come with you. We'll take the left hand path, Vivi can go down there with Mystery, that OK with you Vi?”

Vivi nodded and rubbed Mystery's head. “Sure. Let's meet back here in an hour, OK? That should be enough time, we managed that massive cave with the wraith in it in, like, half that time.”

Arthur shuddered at the memory, and nodded. Lewis pressed a kiss to her forehead. “See you in an hour. Be careful, that slope looks slippery.”

“I'll be fine. You guys got your whistles?”

Lewis and Arthur tugged the whistles out from under their clothes. 

“Good. See you in an hour. Come on, Mystery.”

Mystery hadn't been walking for long when he felt it. Vivi had barely noticed him hanging back, excited to get to the stalagmites (“Hey, even if we don't find anything, I'm Instagramming that shit”), so had practically raced on ahead, unperturbed by slipping over twice. Mystery glanced up at a precipice looming over the cavern. A light was there, presumably Lewis' torch. They were fine. Probably. At least, he would assume so if he happened to be a normal dog, but something felt so, so uncomfortable; he couldn't exactly see death omens as much as feel them, and something could go wrong so easily up there. He cautiously padded back up the path. 

Vivi's anguished scream hit him at the exact moment he arrived at the precipice, where there was Arthur but no Lewis but really no Arthur either. Not-Arthur turned his left side to Mystery, and it was all the not-dog needed to see. The sickly green skin and void-like eyes, the stench of betrayal and death- 

He knew what he had to do, regardless of Arthur's face, or at least, half of it. He was producing a mixture of empty, echoing laughter and frantic sobs and gulps, the latter taking over once Mystery bit through foul, contaminated flesh that could never possibly belong to the boy who walked him and loved Lewis and loved Vivi and.... 

A sickening crack echoed out and the bone was broken and the arm was removed, still writhing and green and filled with nothing but putrid anger. Arthur, amazingly, was still standing, staring over the edge at Lewis, a stalagmite emerging from his chest and an indescribable look frozen on his face. A broken sob later, and Arthur was on the ground, clutching his stump and whimpering, trying to summon apologies he never thought would be uttered. A lurid pink flash lit up the cave for a split second, and Mystery could hear footsteps echo on the ground, followed by a breathless Vivi arriving. 

He flung the arm after Lewis before she could see. How could he possibly explain this? She had just seen- 

There were purple sparks around her eyes. She looked confused, at least until her eyes landed on Arthur and she let out a shriek almost identical to the one before. She had seen Lewis plummet to his death, but he had seen this before, once when a man in Ottawa was hit by a bus while his daughter stood nearby, and once when a boy was stabbed in front of his best friend. 

Sometimes, he thought, the ones we love close the door on the way out. They could remove memories of their death, but not them. It was probably better this way. Vivi clutched Arthur to her chest. 

“Baby, it's me, it's OK, where's Lewis? Fuck....” she was at a loss. 

Mystery had never once truly revealed himself, or anything he could do other than chew furniture and crap in unsuitable places. Now seemed like the only time in which it was possible. 

“Vivi.”

She didn't notice. 

“VIVI.” 

Her head jerked up. “Mystery...”

“Vivi, this is important. You need to get out.” 

“But...”

“Deal with Arthur. You need to get phone signal, call an ambulance, he's going to bleed out. Please, do that now. Now.”

She remained where she was. 

“Vivi, please.”

“You can talk.”

“That isn't important now.” 

“Where's Lewis?”

“Also not important now.” 

Mystery struggled for ideas, how to communicate to a confused girl that one man she loved was dead far below them, and the other would be if he didn't get to a hospital. 

That's how he came up with the plan. He projected an ungodly roar without moving his mouth, one that echoed around the cave. Vivi froze. 

“What the fuck was that?”

“I've been trying to tell you. We need to get out of here.” 

“Not without Lewis.” She cradled Arthur, tears streaming down her face and onto her blood-soaked sweater. 

It wasn't the most subtle way he could have broken the news, but it was the only way. 

“He's dead.”

Vivi froze. “No.”

“Yes.”

“You're lying. He can't-”

Mystery projected the same detached roar, rattling Vivi to her bones.

“Please. Vivi. I can't imagine how hard this is for you, but you need to get out of this cave. Now. Get out now. There is nothing you can do for Lewis, but if you do nothing, you will lose everyone.”

Vivi looked down at the now unconscious boy in her arms, his skin almost grey from blood loss. With what could only have been strength summoned from a different reality entirely, she managed to pick him up, and broke into a jog. 

Mystery had work to do. The police would not accept demonic possession as a valid reason for hurling someone to their death, and, if he lived, Arthur was highly unlikely to cope in prison. And then there was a missing arm to explain. He scanned the area for something, anything that might help him explain-

The smell of an animal caught his nose. He tore out of the cave towards it, unnoticed by Vivi, now applying pressure to Arthur's shoulder and waiting for an ambulance, eyes vacant and unblinking. That poor girl. He could already tell that the future held little peace for her. He slipped into the thorny forest and into his true form, gliding until he found it; 

Bear shit. That was his plan. There were bears in this forest, and one clearly wandered into the cave, scared Lewis, who slipped off that ledge, and got into an altercation with Arthur, biting his arm off before leaving him for whatever reason. He knew little of the police, but, as they probably didn't tend to take bears into custody, it was the best he could do. With a grimace, he gathered the droppings in his mouth and practically flew back to the cave, leaving them near the entrance. He ran to Vivi, eyes still wide and so empty. He could work with memories, to an extent. He could pluck the already-altered memory of Lewis falling from her mind, the one of him talking, and leave her with the basics. There was a bear. They were silly kids out of their depth, and there was a bear. One of them was missing a limb, because of a bear. 

Arthur already looked like he was on his way out. Mystery couldn't even find his memories, so did what he could with Vivi's as the sirens drew nearer. Watched from behind a nearby bush as they were loaded into ambulances. As the police investigated, and had Lewis' broken body removed in a bag, ready to be returned to his family. 

Something still echoed around the cave, but no-one seemed to notice. 

And, after several hours, Mystery began to make his way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I personally prefer the idea that Vivi doesn't forget Lewis himself, but certainly forgets the actual circumstances regarding his death and Arthur's arm loss, mostly due to Mystery doing a bit of tampering. Arthur doesn't forget; I'm guessing, from his "Oh CRAP" look in the video when Lewis throws out his rad flame pompadour dealie that he understands why he would be pissed off and vengeful. Chances are Vivi's memories were easier to alter under the circumstances because Lewis had already erased the worst of them.   
> Also, I've always wondered how the hell Vivi and Arthur both survived; Vivi wasn't physically injured, I get that, but Arthur lost an arm; as much as I like the idea of Mystery using flames to cauterize the wound, that would raise some questions once Arthur arrived at a hospital, so I'm going with "they weren't THAT far out of town, Vivi managed to keep it together enough to call an ambulance, and Mystery went with the classic defense of "Everything's worse with bears" in order to save Vivi and Arthur from murder/manslaughter charges". 
> 
> I'm going to get to work on a new story in the same style, but set just after the cave incident, by the way, so please do check back if you want to read more of my nonsense. :)


End file.
